The Slave of the Day
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: NFA Help Haiti ficlet. Tim has a talk with Director Morrow after the events of Witness. Oneshot.


**A/N:** Yes, another ficlet from the NFA Help Haiti auction. The request for this one was Tim, Director Morrow (from seasons 1 and 2) and "unbreakable". It's set after the events of _Witness_ in season 2.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine! Not mine! NCIS is not mine and I'm not getting any money from this.

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**The Slave of the Day**  
by Enthusiastic Fish

"_He who passes not his days in the realm of dreams is the slave of the days."  
__~ Khalil Gibran_

"You need to talk to him, Director," Gibbs said. "He's not hearing me. I thought he was doing all right, but he's not."

"Are you actually saying the words, Agent Gibbs?" Director Morrow asked, smiling. "You have a tendency to try and speak without actually moving your mouth."

"He hasn't been on my team for very long. I think he needs to hear from someone else."

Morrow stood up and sighed. "I think you're wrong, Gibbs, but I'll talk to him. Send him up when he's not busy."

Gibbs nodded and left. Morrow sat back on his chair, pulling a file toward him. It had been a sad case. Agent McGee's first case where he took the lead. His report had been thorough and spared no details. No wonder Gibbs had passed it on without any comment. You could see the guilt, even through the business-like words. He felt responsible for not saving her.

A new agent facing this kind of thing could easily wash out, and Gibbs' report of him had been exemplary. Agent McGee had a lot of potential...potential that could be lost if they didn't get him back now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The tentative knock came a few hours later.

"Come!"

Tim McGee, came in, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He had only spoken with the director of NCIS once or twice and this must seem like the ultimate principal's office: a place you went when you were in trouble.

"Ah, Agent McGee, have a seat...no not here, at the table."

"Y-Yes, sir." Tim sat stiffly.

"Did Agent Gibbs tell you why you were coming up here?"

"N-No, sir. Have...have I done something...something wrong?" Then, his eyes widened. "It's about Erin, isn't it. It's about her dying. I'm in trouble for that. Right?"

_Erin. Not Ms. Kendall or any other iteration. This is personal to him,_ Morrow thought. That certainly hadn't come through in the professional report.

"It is about that case, but you're not in trouble."

"I'm...not? Sir?"

Morrow smiled. "No, Agent McGee. You're not in trouble. Should you be?"

"Erin died. That..." Anger for just a moment, quickly suppressed. "He killed her...when I was supposed to be doing my job. I let her die."

"You stood there and let Jeremy Pryor kill her?"

"I...I...no...I...tried." Tim dropped his head. "And it wasn't enough. She was dead when I got there. If Gibbs had been there instead... If _anyone _else had..."

Morrow saw it. It happened with most new agents actually. A crumbling of the image of who they were. A special agent was supposed to be somehow perfect...able to stop bullets, leap tall buildings. ...and they should be able to save everyone at no cost to themselves. This image had been shattered, and now, Tim was ready to say that he wasn't good enough to be an agent because he wasn't living up to that image.

"What did you do wrong, then?" he asked.

"I didn't think. I ran into the room. I didn't clear it first. I shot at him. I missed. I tried to save Erin. She died."

"Nothing you've mentioned could have saved Erin Kendall, Agent McGee. She was dead before you got into the room. You were on surveillance in the appropriate place. You did your job. You made the connections that needed to be made to stop Pryor from getting away with it."

"But Erin still died."

"People do. Sometimes, agents die trying to do their jobs. Agent Pacchi, for example. He may have made a couple of mistakes, but he was doing his job. He still died. Agents aren't perfect. None of us...not even Agent Gibbs."

"But, sir, if...if I-I had done everything right..."

"Agent McGee, this job isn't _about_ doing everything right."

Finally, his head raised. He was so surprised that he forgot to be nervous.

"What's it about, then?"

"Certainly, we try to do everything as well as we can. That's not the problem. What we have to do is, when things like this happen, when criminals do things that could break us...we refuse to be broken."

Tim stared at him.

"You have to make a choice, Agent McGee. You have to decide. Are you going to be broken by this? Are you going to let this tragedy, this one case, destroy your future as an agent? Or are you going to stand your ground and refuse to let Jeremy Pryor destroy another life? Refuse to be broken by the people we're supposed to stop. It's a choice only you can make, Agent McGee. It's not something that will be forced on you by anyone. Not me, not Gibbs, not Jeremy Pryor or Erin Kendall. No one can make the choice for you...but you have to decide now because, if you don't, the next time you might be broken."

Morrow let him sit there and digest that for a few seconds. Then, to his surprise, Tim spoke...slowly, softly, but without any stammering at all.

"This is all I've ever wanted to be. This is my dream."

"Are you going to give that up, Agent McGee?"

A small, uncertain smile that said more than Morrow understood. "I can't give it up."

"Then, you can't break, Agent McGee. Every blow that comes, you can be battered, but you have to stand your ground and say that they won't break you."

Tim straightened almost imperceptibly.

"What's it going to be, Agent McGee?"

"Sir...I..." Tim looked down and then back up. "I think I have a job to do."

Morrow smiled. "Then, go do it."

Tim smiled in response. "Yes, sir." He stood to leave. "Thank you, sir."

"My job is to make sure we don't let the good ones go, Agent McGee. You're one of the good ones."

The smile widened. "Thank you, sir."

"Go do your job, Agent McGee."

"Yes, sir!" Tim turned around and walked out of the office.

Morrow sat back and thought about the conversation. There was more to Tim McGee than met the eye, and he figured he was right. Tim McGee was one of the good ones. The best agents were the ones who were driven to do their job. Tim was one who really wanted to be there.

Would that every man could live out his dreams.

FINIS!


End file.
